Override
by winterminch
Summary: When Charlotte copied the suit designs and was caught, she didn't expect anything but jail time and humiliation. However, she soon found that Tony's hobby would be to help her fix her suit of armor. Slaving away to perfect her blueprints, it was her, Stark, and, one couldn't forget to mention J.A.R.V.I.S., a seemingly strange friend who had a new trick up his sleeve. T. Jarvis/OC.


**OVERRIDE  
youknowitsmsrae**

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_A/N: Hello everyone. My name is Summer and - woops, I decided I was going to write another one of these babies. Oh well, I hope you like it anyways. Mwahaha._

_This was actually written a very long time ago, and I recently found it, and couldn't help but fix it. If I decide to continue with it, will be completely up to you guys, so give me some feedback. However, I will ask you don't immediately shoot the idea down, because I can already feel some flames coming from what I'm about to grace the fanfiction eye with._

_This, my dear readers, is a Jarvis/OC._

_I've looked and searched everywhere, and I haven't really found one of these, so I was inspired to be the first. After all, the A.I.'s gotta have a little love too. -smooshes his face-_

_Dedicated to Nicole, who as always, will be mention somewhere throughout this if I decide to finish._

_Hope you enjoy!_

_- Summer_

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**CHAPTER ONE: OVERRIDE**

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It was honestly peaceful.

The image in front of her, from where she resided, that is, perched on the tallest roof of the tallest tower (that could be seen for _miles_) made her extremely comfortable with about what she was about to do, despite contrary belief. After all, it would be _no _cake walk, more dangerous than anything, not to mention that if she was caught, she was absolutely screwed by her boss, and most likely the government as well. Also, there was a good chance she was about to attempt this little experiment and _die, _so at least she had a nice view before she met her untimely fate. Heights was never an issue for her mentally, so it didn't both her to be this high; she craved the flight.

Either way, she stayed crouched there, on the ledge, the only thing between her and the ground being the acuteness of her balance on her front, leather gloved hands, and the right amount of gravity.

The perfect picture in her book was of the vibrant sun, now shifting down in the sky from an invisible thread. It had previously been hovering like an orange across the lakes of New York City, reflecting off the glass of skyscrapers in shimmering beauty. Now, the musky paste of a soft blue streaked over the horizon ever so lightly, dimming out a once gorgeous sunset. The city hustled and bustled, automobiles of all shapes and sizes zooming at what, from up there, looked like supersonic speeds. The lights on the outside of each building jumped on as the sun completely disappeared with a hum. From city tower to city building, a few birds shot overhead like bullets.

This was normal, and no one who gazed upon the ginormous building of the great and grand _Avengers Tower_ would realize that high, thousands of feet off of the ground, stationed securely on the ledge and hidden by shadow, a female took a stand, flickering her eyes right back to the ground. She judged how many feet in the air she was, and her pupils dilated in shock. Irises flickering around from rooftop to rooftop, excitedly, nervously, she twisted her fingers together. So many different emotions pumped through her heart and veins that she had to take a step back so she didn't buzz right over the side.

Throwing her hands behind her head, stretching out once in the tight, spandex body armor with the words STARK INDUSTRIES painted across the front, she turned around on the heels of her army boots, ready to face the music. Sliding the clunking black leather off of her calves, tossing them aside, it left her in the full body wet suit, though she had no desire to get wet. In fact, it wasn't for water - it had a flame repellent sealed in, just in case.

"Jarvis." She called like a commander, pressing the button in her ear that was linked to the communication server she shared with the A.I. There was a mechanical bleep on her left side brain as he calibrated to listen in and hear as she gave orders, a signal of his presence and power. While she finished putting her hair into a tight braid down her back, she was using her foot to shove _something _to the edge of the tower. Finally directing her attention to it, she grabbed the item by the handles and sat it on the ledge, lying it flat.

Taking a few steps back, the female shook out and mentally instructed herself to breathe. She forgot everything else but it, the constant in and out of oxygen. Breathing was good. Breathing was very good. It wouldn't freak her out as much if she had lungs full of wonderful, smelly, city-desecrated air -

"I believe you called for my assistance, Ms. Doe? May I be as kind as to inquire if I am needed?"

"Oh!" She lost her concentration, air leaving in a _woosh _through her un-clenched jaw. Her eyes popped open, nose wrinkling. She'd been so focused on her ritual, she'd forgotten she'd been on the line, and what a stupid move that was. The artificial intelligence was probably already tracking where her location stood (he was) to insure she wasn't up to any funny business ( she was). She would have to hurry now, and nothing good ever came out of rushing. "Jarvis - right, sorry. Yes, I do need you; you remember those 'hypothetical' files I might have implanted on your internal membrane on Monday?"

There was silence.

"Good, that means yes, I guess, okay, well, in that case, you must already know the deal. Access code: 2s994di9. Take action - please, I even said please - override Stark's security cameras for 15 minutes, make sure I am unable to be spotted on his radar. And don't you _dare_ tell on me or I swear I'll load a virus that'll leave you down with a cyber-cold for a week."

As she warned the J.A.R.V.I.S. childishly in one big _hsssh _of a sentence to keep her secret safe, the wind picked up considerably in a breezing manor, blowing on her face until it felt very frozen. The beginning of October in New York, New York was batting and chilling her cheek bones. One couldn't forget she wasn't wearing the most _thermal _ready clothing either, so she shook in her spot like a wet kitten, fingering her gloves to get them more set in place.

"Though I am programmed to only nag Mr. Stark when he is making a bad decision, I apologize in advance. However, I do not approve of this adventure, Charlotte." Replied Jarvis as she tightened the straps around her fingers. She was surprised that he had used her full name to the point where she even paused. For, not even Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts used it. Not even her _parents _used it. Yet, alas, she couldn't focus on that fact for too long. There was more of a different emotion hidden in his technological voice that worried her - he was distracted. From this, she had a nagging feeling he was signalling the big man of her plan, and that was no good.

Thus, she decided that this was go time, before she was arrested without even trying it out. The mechanics were all there, and she had the parts and power. It was just time to test.

"Don't make me send you into stasis. Just follow orders." Paused she, then added: "Please."

When there was no direct answer, she took it as he was doing what she had required. After all, she had placed in a safe door for herself in the encrypted codes that he would be unable to refuse her for a long while as she began tinkering with the machine that sat in front of her. It wouldn't take him too long to override, but it gave her enough time if she went _now._

Therefore, she finally and formally turned her immediate train of thought to the black suitcase sitting on the ledge in front of her; the item she'd paid very little attention to until this moment. Her heart was pumping and hammering like thunder within her chest cavities, blood traveling through to her throat and zipping in her wrists. She was flushed, but with nervous bubbles. The thing was: what she was about to do was more than just dangerous - it was illegal, life threatening, and would cost her more than her job.

That being said, she stuck her chin in the air and decided to get on with it.

Though it would appear that way, the metal briefcase was no regular container. She'd seen a prototype, as her boss had called it, the day he had competed in the Dirby, for who hadn't witnessed the devastation and destruction that had followed that meeting? And yet, though the man was doing the exact same thing she was by taking blueprints that did not have her name on them, she had a different purpose. Where the whip-holding crusader wanted revenge, she was doing what she doing for the good of the people, for the good of _science._ Tony Stark wasn't the only genius on the planet. In fact, he'd just _hired _one. Either way, the metal football was a start - a model for her to shape with her own time, money, efforts, blood, sweat, frustration and tears. Many men, like Hammer, had attempted what she had as well with grand cash fees and fancy attire, but she'd sat in a mechanic shop with a screw driver, power saw, heat blower, and when she was signed with STARK Industries, everything worked out perfectly from there.

With a single kick to the briefcase, it had turned hims into Iron Man.

Her prototype was a bit flimsy, but test runs were test runs for reasons.

"Jarvis?" The confident She questioned to the voice in her ear, quite breathy at that, taking a couple steps back. He sounded exhausted when he responded, as if he knew how much trouble _he _was going to be in for actually giving this girl access to his memory; Mr. Stark would not be pleased. A few more shuffles back after that and she was measuring the distance from here and the ledge with her eyes. She could feel the concrete through the thin material of the suit on the pads of her toes, and it made her blush in opposition to her freaking heart that fluttered just beneath her ribs.

"Though I surprisingly regret this, yes, Ms. Doe?"

Grinning, Charlotte got into the sprint position, ready to haul ass.

"I'll see you in 15."

Taking off into a run, she hit the concrete two steps at a time, ("Ms. Doe, wait, I must protest -"), stepped onto the case with a heavy right foot as she jumped, and flung herself right off the side of the roof.

The sensation of free-falling was almost as frightening, and strangely exhilarating, as the feeling of the metal that locked on her foot. It was spreading and clicking together against her ankle, then her other, doing what she'd designed it to do by slicking up her form two pieces at a time. Charlotte could hear the blaring mechanics grinding to fit her body shape while she kept herself steady in the downward spiral. The wind whipped her braid into the air, and as she fell, water drifted from the squinted corner of her eyes from the velocity. The ground was getting way to close for her liking as the machine encased her chest and back. She almost smashed into the ground, fear flipping to panic at the last moment like any sane human.

That was, of course, until she could feel the boosters in her feet spring to life the second the mask snapped over her face, a good 100 feet from the asphalt, dirty street.

A women and her husband screamed at the falling body that had plummeted towards them in the dark, but it was gone as soon as she'd been there. They quickly ran with their hands up to get a better look. _Was that Iron Man? _They had wondered, but no, it was just a somewhat insane Ms. Doe, who at the confirmation of booster speed, shot right back up into the air, flying up the side of the tower she'd just fallen from. Her balance was a bit_ unbalanced_ at first as she passed the large, glowing _A_, black suit of armor a shadow in the sky, and she almost smashed into the glass once or twice. But, when she was high above the scraper, hovering to herself, she took deep breaths (or began breathing again).

She wasn't dead and was flying, all the monitors that illuminated her screen read all her vitals and body functions were, in fact, functioning, and everything just seemed _good._

Then, as she stayed put in midair, nothing but the hum of the city to keep her company, everything _really _registered.

She wasn't dead.

She was flying.

She was _flying._

"Jarvis! Jarvis, I did it! I _really_ did it!"

"Yes, yes, Ms. Doe, now _please_, before this turns sour, do come back to the tower. You will not be happy with the results if you do not dismantle and -"

"Don't ruin the moment, J. Live a little and remember, don't you _dare _tell on me."

Her final, excited exclamation left her mouth, fist pounding at the air in accomplishment.

Now, it was time to have fun with her baby - her Mark I. Turning around in one circle, completely defying gravity, she took off to the North, leaving a trail of thin smoke behind her in an even thinner line. She praised herself, Jarivs, the good Lord, Tony, and anything else she could think of when it came to mind as she dove around building to building, gliding from street to street, past intersection one and two, and made a circle in the sky around Central Park. But, when her little adventure reached the 7 minute mark, she took back off like a rocket towards the mother tower. Her eyes cautiously read everything on the monitor in front of her, photographic memory taking in every detail. Everything minus her boosters were completely functional, and that meant she, indeed, _almost _just as much as a brilliant scientist and mechanic as _the _Stark himself.

She had really done it.

At 18 years old, she'd completed her first suit.

Or, well, again, _almost._

When her boosters began to sting on her feet, heat vibrating through the outer layer so much that the thin material of her body suit began burning away, she made an immediate pit stop. She had a more than shaky landing, that resulted in a full body somersault. Charlotte had hit a local GIECO building's rooftop, rolling onto her side after the dodgy crash, knee hitting the earth as she slid across the top. In crouch position, her jets were burning up, grinding the metal underneath her hefty steps. She'd have to fix those before she burned her feet right off, as it was already starting to hurt. Gravel overturned when she shut the machine down for a brief moment to let it cool, collapsing onto both her knees.

However, while it chilled so much that she could very much get back up to the roof of the Avengers Tower if she wanted to, one fist came up to pump the air again.

Charlotte was never afraid of heights, like stated earlier; her father, and his father were pilots in the Air Force, and she'd been around fighter jets and airplanes for more than half of her life. Most likely where her brainwashed need for speed came from. On any given testing day, her favorite thing to do would be to pull the helmet that fell over her eyes up, to see the clouds her and her father drift through from the cockpit of his military jet.

"Jarvis -" She burst out, finally taking her stand again, but there was no answer. Grinning ear to ear in the helmet anyways, she brushed her hands off, and turned her direction towards where she could see the vibrant tower in the distance, "- it worked! I can't believe it; it really -"

The little INCOMING red light began to beep in the left corner of her vision, cutting her off as the screen shifted from white to red: battle ready. Words catching in her throat, her smile faltered instantly as tried to make sense of what was happening. Squinting, she realized a single white dot was...was _moving _over a green map -

- and coming straight for her.

Turning on the spot, metal grinding under her feet, she only had time to lift her right arm and block the blow to the face that would have shattered the mask completely. Instead, making her grunt, she got a boot to the stomach, crunching her not-so-sturdy metal plating, flinging her backwards. Her metal fingers dug into the roof to not fly off the edge, as she dangled off the side, half on, half not. Her horrified mix of a gasp was heard as the concrete chalked up to the metal hands that snagged onto the ledge end. Hers. Disoriented on the attack, she looked up through weary vision to try and make sense of the predator. Her mask flipped up, grinding and breaking behind her head.

She came face to face, with Iron Man.

Charlotte swallowed.

Well, she was flat out _busted._

She made a mental note to disrupt the J.A.R.V.I.S. for a good couple days.

Tony's mask smoothly slid up, unlike her's that made a cracking noise when she tried to move her head. The billionaire Avenger crossed his arms across his chest, and gazed her down like a scolding parent as she attempted to hold onto the ledge for dear life. It dawned on her she was falling in the last second, and she now clung with a face of fear. Was he going to just let her _hang _there?

It appeared so.

"Ms. Doe." Though he was smirking, he didn't seem very amused. In fact, his eyes read a hint of discomfort from her betrayal and something else she couldn't place. Slipping a little, she didn't respond, but focused on keeping herself upright and not falling to her death of the side of a GIECO tower top. "Why don't we go back to the tower, and discuss this matter of stealing my blueprints and somehow taking control of Jarvis." He seemed to begin to turn to fly back, like a toddler turning his back on a situation he didn't want to deal with yet, but instead, turned to hold up a finger for a brief moment, "Oh, and on your 3rd day of the job."

She ducked her head in defeat, chin against the wall, cursing in a foreign language in her head. Using her foot steadily to flip over the side once again, she could finally breathe correctly in the comfort of being on concrete, and _not _the one all the way below her. She wanted to rub her side from where Tony had kicked, however she would just be touching an outer metal exterior, and what was the point of that? She'd have to take her punishment like a man.

"Does this mean I'm fired, sir?"

He didn't answer.

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**Things To Think About:**

**Who is Charlotte Doe? How did she come to work with STARK INDUSTRIES? What will Tony do after he caught a stealing thief in action?**

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**Next Chapter Preview:**

**Charlotte struggles to get out of the broken suit, and has to face the music and explain herself to the very unhappy, snarky son of a bitch: Stark.**

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**Ta ta for now!**


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